Dick looked at himself in the mirror as he adjusted his tie, broken blue eyes full of sorrow and sadness being reflected back.
He always hated dressing in a funeral suit, of course, but this time he would rather be tortured by all the villains in Gotham than wear it.
He has attended many funerals in his life: that of his parents, those of "Brucie's friends," those of civilians he failed to save (secretly), and many others.
One of his biggest regrets is not being at his Little Wing's funeral, even though he was in fucking space.
Be that as it may, Dick might have been ready for any funeral, any, but not his.
It had never occurred to him that one day he might attend his adoptive father's funeral. The very idea was ridiculous to him. After all, Bruce Wayne was the goddamn Batman! He had escaped death so many times that he couldn't even count them on the fingers of every W.E. employee!
Okay, maybe that last statement was a bit of an exaggeration, but the concept remains!
Nothing could kill his father, damn it!
Instead, there he was: in front of the mirror, depressed, hoping that all this was just a nightmare and that he would wake up very soon.
But it wasn't.
And he knew it.
He did not know how long he stood in front of the mirror, but the sound of the door opening distracted him from his thoughts. Dinah leaned in slightly. "May I come in?" she asked softly.
Dick nodded and she entered.
He turned his gaze away, focusing his gaze on his own reflection. He heard Dinah sigh, and the next second she wrapped her arms around his body and rested her head on his right shoulder.
"I miss him more than anyone can know." Richard admitted after a few seconds of silence.
"I know, I can sense it every time I look at you."
"Right. Justice League psychologist." it wasn't a real smile but almost.
"Yeah."
Dick sighed. "I'd better check on the others." he said as he started to leave the bathroom.
Dinah gently grabbed his wrist and spun him around. Dick did not understand what was happening until his lips met her lips. He murmured contentedly into the kiss before pulling away and looking at her questioningly.
"Just to remind you that you will never be alone."
This time the acrobat's smile was small but true and sincere before leaving the bathroom. He and Dinah arrived in the living room where their entire family was present, dressed appropriately for the sad occasion.
It was as if each of them feared that they might already burst into tears even before the funeral.
Which was likely.
The next fifteen minutes were spent with Dick trying to console the others by chasing away their fears and doubts about the upcoming funeral that would mark their lives forever.
Alfred cleared his throat, getting everyone's full attention. "It is time, young masters."
Some of them gasped.
They were not ready, and Dick did not blame them at all.
He wasn't ready either.
Major Wayne's phone rang. He looked at the others. "I will join you soon." the others nodded and left the room. He checked the caller ID and saw that it was unknown. "Hello?" he said slightly frowning.
"Richard." came the voice of Talia Al Ghul.
"Talia." he spoke, masking his surprise. "What can I do for you?"
"I'll get straight to the point: is it true that beloved is dead?" she asked, keeping her voice steady.
Dick gasped. This was not the right time for that conversation.
Not now, at least.
Talia had a right to know, though.
No matter how much it hurt him to talk about it, although he was supposed to go to his funeral soon.
He just didn't want to get there already with tears.
Damn it.
He let out a very deep sigh. "Yes, Talia. It's his funeral soon."
The phone line was silent for a few moments. "I'm sorry."
Dick knew that was the best he could get from Talia. "You just heard about it now?"
"No. Father had already read the news of his death days ago but did not calculate it that much. It wouldn't have been the first time that it was fake news. But then a rumor spread in the criminal world about Batman and that he was different, that he was more athletic and acrobatic, just like Nightwing."
Dick remained silent. He knew that soon Batman's enemies would realize that he was not him, that he was different, and it did not bother him.
He was Batman now, and the criminals had to know that messing with him was not a good idea.
Who knows, maybe Bane and Killer Croc will have warned the others about how they got their asses kicked by the Caped Crusader.
"If you want, you could come to the...funeral."
"I really want to, but Father would prevent me."
"I understand."
"He was a wonderful man, wasn't he?" she asked softly after a few seconds of silence.
Dick closed his eyes with the pain that was slowly consuming him. "The best I've ever known." he replied promptly and without hesitation. "If you want, I can pass you Damian."
"I'll talk to him personally later. Take care of yourself, Richard."
"You too, Talia." the phone call cut off and the 20 year old sighed heavily as he left the room.
It was going to be the worst day of his life.
There were many people present at the funeral.
Among the heroes were Clark Kent, Diana Prince, Barry Allen, Arthur Curry and his wife Mera, J'onn J'onzz, Hal Jordan, Oliver Queen, Zatanna Zatara, Shayera Hol, John Constantine, Kara Zor-El, Rachel Roth, Victor Stone, Garfield Logan, Kory Anders, Cassandra Sandsmark, Conner Kent, Karen Beecher, Jaime Reyes, Bart Allen, Wally West, Roy Harper, Garth, Donna Troy, and others in their civilian clothes and identities, of course.
Citizens, on the other hand, included Commissioner James Gordon and his right-hand man Harvey Bullock, Detective Ellen Yin, his former police partner Amy Rohrbach, Dr. Leslie Thompkins, Lucius Fox, Cynthia, Selina Kyle (although she did not qualify as a regular citizen but details), Martha Kent, Jonathan Kent, Lois Lane, Linda Park-West and Iris West-Allen.
The Bat Family received condolences and Dick was almost crushed to death each time because of the hugs from all of them.
The funeral was heartbreaking.
He listened carefully to every single word of the priest with tears in his eyes. Afterwards Alfred went up on the small stage and cleared his throat.
"I met Master Bruce many, many years ago. I had the honor of serving his parents, Mistress Martha Wayne and Master Thomas Wayne, though unfortunately not as much as I would have liked. After their painful and untimely deaths, young Master Bruce was no longer the child I had come to love with all my heart.
"He was no longer energetic, happy. He had lost the smile that could light up an entire room.
"He was lost. Lonely. Distraught. Longing for the revenge and justice he never got.
"I raised him personally and alone. I did everything in my power to raise him as a normal child, but he had not been a child for a while. I was his only point of reference and I tried to always be there for him. He never had a real friend growing up, and I was very sorry about that.
"I don't know precisely when it happened but eventually I considered him my son, even though I could never replace Master Thomas. I was just his humble butler. But years later, while he was in his teens and on one of his world travels, I received a letter on Father's Day that read: "Happy Father's Day, Alfred." It was one of the best days of my life." here Alfred's voice faltered. He wiped away the tears streaming down his face with a tissue and continued, his voice still trembling.
"He lived through his teenage years in the worst of ways, but despite this, once he took control of Wayne Enterprises he still wanted to try to help Gotham City with his countless charitable donations and charity balls.
"Despite the fact that this city took his parents away from him, he wanted to endure it to the best of his ability. If it weren't for Master Bruce Gotham would be in much worse shape, and this shows his immense goodness of heart, even if it is not visible to everyone. After all, he is Gotham's White Knight, and the title suits him... suited him perfectly."
He could not talk about Batman because there was a risk that some journalist might sneak in and record everything but there was no need.
The message was implied for those who knew their secret identities.
"I was afraid, I admit it: afraid that Master Bruce's life would be spent in a lonely way, that he would fall into a darkness from which he could never rise again.
"But then a miracle happened, albeit in the most unpleasant circumstances under which it could happen. The miracle that brought life and light back to Master Bruce has a name, and it is Master Richard Grayson.
"Master Bruce took him in because the boy, at that time a child of only eight years old, experienced his own tragedy. The child, after gradually getting over the terrible tragedy, brought back a sound that I feared I would never hear again inside Wayne Manor: the sound of laughter.
"He worked miracles. He slowly brought a smile and a laugh back to Master Bruce, and for that I cannot thank him enough." Alfred made eye contact with Dick and smiled tremulously at him.
"After Master Richard the family expanded with Master Jason, followed later by Master Tim, Miss Stephanie, Miss Cassandra and Master Damian who expanded the light into Master Bruce.
"Master Bruce has acquired a new family and the light that was in him has been reborn through his children.
"I will miss you very much, son."
Alfred dismounted and was immediately joined by Dick who pulled him into a firm embrace that the butler promptly returned. Tim, Jason, Cass, Steph, and Damian joined in the next second.
Alfred wiped away his tears and looked at his first grandson. "Master Dick, if you will..." he left the sentence hanging but did not need to finish it.
Dick nodded and went up on stage himself. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he ignored the tears. He opened them again and looked at his friends and family.
"The world has lost not only one of the kindest people on the planet, but the kindest hearted man I have ever met in my entire life. Although he had not been the best person to express his feelings, I knew and know that he had them, and lots of them.
"Mine is not a simple speech about his kindness, like a cliché.
"After all, he took in a circus boy who was orphaned at the age of eight. And why?
"Not out of pity or compassion, but because he knew exactly what I was feeling. So he took me under his wing to prevent me from becoming like him after his parents died.
"And for that I can never thank him enough.
"Many say I was his light, the light that illuminated his darkness. But few know that light needs darkness in order to survive.
"He became my reference point, my heart, my world, my rock, my everything, my father. I would not be here without him.
"I often hear that a father should never bury his son, but now I understand that a son should not bury his father either. Not so soon, at least."
He closed his eyes, grief pouring out in waves. He swallowed and opened them again.
"I-I... it will be hard, very hard to get over this tragedy that has hit all of us hard.
"I'm not particularly Christian, but I'm sure that from up there in heaven, Bruce will watch over us, be our guardian angel." he looked at his family. "As he always has, after all.
"Dad, I will l-love you forever."
Hours later, Dick was the only one left in front of Bruce's grave. A few minutes earlier he had convinced the others to leave him alone.
He was kneeling in front of his father's grave, gazing at it fixedly.
"Slade, Rose, you can come out." he called distractedly.
He heard footsteps behind him and turned, rising only to be swept up in a crushing embrace.
Rose wrapped her arms around Dick who quickly reciprocated as more tears spilled from his eyes.
Slade spoke as his daughter stroked the hair of the boy she regarded as an older brother. "How did you know it was us, kid?"
A watery smile made its way across the 20 year old's features. "Old age is catching up with you."
Rose snorted in amusement as Slade's left eye, the one visible and not hidden by the blindfold, narrowed before dropping the subject. "How are you, Richard?" he asked, genuinely concerned.
Once again the world's deadliest mercenary wondered how the hell he had come to be friends and mentors with his, now former, arch-enemy.
And he was genuinely concerned for the younger man!
Dick's smile quickly faded, and only then did Slade notice that the ever-present light in his blue eyes was completely absent. Rose noticed it too and gently pulled away from the embrace but still remained close to him.
"Thank you for coming, both of you." he said, ignoring the question.
Both Slade and Rose frowned at the failure to answer the question but dropped the subject.
"If you want, I can brutally kill the man who did this." Rose spoke casually, as if they were discussing unicorns and rainbows.
"I thank you for the offer but I'll pass. Bruce would not want it, and even if I wanted to ignore that fact, I would do it myself." declared Dick in a calm but icy tone, looking at a random spot in the cemetery.
Slade opened wide the only visible eye. Initially, when he wanted to force him to become his apprentice, Richard/Robin I always flatly refused to take anyone's life.
Even when he mentored him, for about six to seven months, Dick had refused to kill and the mercenary was fine with it.
Despite their differences, Slade respected and admired him a lot. He thought him better than most superheroes and had seen great potential in him, which is why he both wanted him as his apprentice the first time and agreed to mentor him the second time.
Also, he would never admit to anyone, he reminded him very much of Grant, his first (dead) son.
Be that as it may, the thought that Dick might actually kill frightened him. If anyone could be a better killer/mercenary than him, it was the acrobat in front of him (after all, that was why Renegade was born for).
Rose had also come to her own conclusions since she looked at her father worriedly.
Slade and Rose stayed with Dick for about ten minutes before they decided to leave and bid him farewell.
Actually, the eldest Wayne actually enjoyed their presence.
Once again he stood alone before the grave of his adoptive father.
He fell to his knees before it, looking at the inscription of Bruce's date of birth and death.
"God, how the hell did this day come?" he furiously pounded a fist on the grass.
"How? How? HOW?!"
Tears streamed down his face until they fell on the grass, wetting it.
"I failed." he whispered, the words hovering in the wind as the sky began to darken.
"I failed." he repeated in a whisper.
He was silent for about a minute before the first droplets of water began to fall but the boy ignored them.
"You always managed to save me, even when I myself didn't know I needed help. Always. There was never a time when you didn't save me. You have always been there for me in my most needy moments."
Slowly the rain became stronger but Dick continued to ignore it.
"And now, when you needed me, I was not there for you. Maybe if I had come up with the idea earlier of trying to build a portal to an alternate reality, we would have been able to save you in time. If only..." he interrupted.
"I would have liked to tell you in person that I loved you more than you thought, more than my parents.
"And now I can't!
"And do you know why I can't?
"Because I'm talking to a damn grave!" he shouted as his scream was muffled by the sound of thunder ripping through the cloudy sky.
Still kneeling, he looked at his father's name inscribed on that damn grave as he was soaked from the rain.
It was as if the world itself was also grieving the loss of Bruce Thomas Wayne.
Dick snorted sarcastically at the very thought. Few people were truly suffering.
And meanwhile, the world was still going on!
It wasn't fucking fair!
"I let you down, Bruce." he whispered softly.
"Just when you counted on me to save you, I failed. I failed. No matter how much I wanted to save you, no matter whether I would have given my life to save you, nothing matters anymore.
"And do you know why?
"Because I failed.
"And you died.
"And I stand here now, without you.
"God, how I wish it were me instead of you." he struggled to swallow as his whole body was shaking since he stood alone in front of the tomb, only this time his shaking was quite strong.
And he knew that it was not because of the rain that caused the shaking.
Dick's last words were lost in the air, in the wind and rain, in the middle of a thunderstorm, in the pitch-black sky.
On the most painful day of his life.
Lightning ripped through the sky and likewise marked a great irreparable crack in his heart.
And a part of Dick died, ceased to exist.
As the darkness slowly consumed him.
"I'm so sorry, Bruce. I'm so sorry."